


The neutral party

by Lilith_Deckerstar



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith_Deckerstar/pseuds/Lilith_Deckerstar
Summary: Amara is not an angel nor a demon, or a human. She has been what both sides have referred to as a neutral party created to guard and counsel the humans and earth. But a war is brewing to bring the end. A war between the heavens and the fires of hell. Amara, Crowley, and Aziraphale are the only ones who can stop the son of Satan and Armageddon.
Relationships: Crowley (Good Omens)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. In the Beginning

**_Current theories on the creation of the universe state that if it were created at all and didn't just start, as it were, unofficially, it came into being about 14 billion years ago. The Earth is generally supposed to be about 4 and a half billion years old. These dates are incorrect. Some medieval scholars put the date of the creation at 3760 BC. Others put creation as far back as 5508 BC. Also, incorrect._ **

**_Archbishop James Ussher claimed that the Heaven and the Earth were created on Sunday, the 21st of October, 4004 BC, - at 9:00 A. M. This too was incorrect, by almost a quarter of an hour. It was created at 9:13 in the morning. Which was correct. The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke the paleontologists haven't seen yet. This proves two things. Firstly, that God does not play dice with the universe. I play an ineffable game of my own devising. For everyone else, it's like playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time._ **

**_Secondly, the Earth is a Libra. The entry for Libra in The Tadfield Advertiser on the night our history begins reads as follows: "You may be feeling run down and always in the same daily round. A friend is important to you. You may be vulnerable to a stomach upset today, so avoid salads. Help could come from an unexpected quarter". This was perfectly correct on every count, except for the bit about the salads. To understand the true significance of what that means, we need to begin earlier. A little more than 6,000 years earlier, to be precise. Just after the beginning. It starts, as it will end, with a garden. In this case, the Garden of Eden. And with an apple._ **

_ Amara, dressed in grey robes with her grey wings, watched from the wall that surrounded the garden of Eden as a snake came up from the ground and whispered into Eve’s ear. She watched as Eve went to the forbidden tree, taking an apple, and biting into it. Adam followed in Eve’s path causing them both to be banished from the garden.  _

_ Amara looked up at the sky and said, “Let the games begin.”  _

**_It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn't been invented yet. But the storm clouds gathering east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way. And it was going to be a big one._ **

_ Amara stood next to Aziraphale, dressed in white robes with his white wings, as they watched Adam and Eve, now clothed by leaves, walk away from their only home into the vast unknown land. The snake who caused all of this slithered next to them before taking its human-like form dressed in black robes and unfurled his black wings.  _

_ “Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” Crawley said.  _

_ Aziraphale chuckles uncomfortably before asking, “Sorry, what was that?” _

_ “I said, "Well, that went down like a lead balloon",” Crawley repeated himself. _

_ “Yes, yes, it did, rather,” Aziraphale agreed.  _

_ “Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. First offense and everything,” Crawley said.  _

_ “I agree with you. Could have let them have a warning or a slap on the wrist,” Amara said.  _

_ “I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway,” Crawley continued.  _

_ “Well, it must be bad…” Aziraphale paused when he realized he didn’t know the name of the demon.  _

_ “Crawley,” He gave his name.  _

_ “Crawley,” Aziraphale said before continuing to explain, “Otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it.” _

_ “Oh, they just said, "Get up there and make some trouble",” Crawley told him.  _

__

_ “Well, obviously. You're a demon. It's what you do,” Aziraphale told him.  _

_ “Not very subtle of the Almighty, though. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a "Don't Touch" sign. I mean, why not put it on the top of a high mountain? Or on the moon? Makes you wonder what God's really planning,” Crawley wondered.  _

_ “Best not to speculate. It's all part of the Great Plan. It's not for us to understand. It's ineffable,” Aziraphale told the two.  _

_ “The Great Plan's ineffable?” Crawley questioned.  _

_ “Exactly. It is beyond understanding and incapable of being put into words,” Aziraphale explained.  _

_ “We should at least know what it is. I mean we’re all apart of it and we should know what the plan is,” Amara voiced her opinion to the two before asking Aziraphale, “Aren’t you the least bit curious?” _

_ “Didn't you have a flaming sword?” Crawley asked Aziraphale before he could answer Amara.  _

_ “Uh…” Aziraphale stuttered.  _

_ “You did. It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?” He asked again.  _

_ “You already lost, did you?” Amara asked, “Didn’t have it long and you lost it.”  _

_ “Gave it away,” Aziraphale muttered.  _

_ “You what?” Amara and Crawley asked.  _

_ “I gave it away. There are vicious animals. It's going to be cold out there. And she's expecting already. And I said, "Here you go. Flaming sword. Don't thank me. And don't let the sun go down on you here",” He explained, “I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing.” _

_ “Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing,” Crawley assured him.  _

_ “You had the best of intentions when you gave it away,” Amara told him.  _

_ “Oh, oh, thank Oh, thank you. It's been bothering me,” Aziraphale thank the two.  _

_ The three watched as Adam backed Eve away as a lion approached them. Adam managed to fight and killed the lion.  _

_ “I've been worrying, too. What if I did the right thing with the whole "eat the apple" business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing,” Crawley told Aziraphale and Amara, “It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one.”  _

_ Three chuckled before Aziraphale stopped and said, “No. It wouldn't be funny at all.” _

_ “Well…” Crawley said. _

_ "Relax, boys. Everything will be alright in the end,” Amara told them.  _

_ The clouds soon became dark and it started to rain. The three unfurled their wings and covered each other from the rain.  _

**_Good Omens, being a narrative of certain events occurring in the last 11 years of human history, in strict accordance, as shall be shown, with The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch._ **

  
  
  
  



	2. Through the years

**_Mesopotamia, 3004 B.C._ **

A small crowd of people gathers to watch as pairs of all known animals are guided aboard an ark boat that was built by Noah. Among those in the crowd were Aziraphale and Amara. 

“Hello, Aziraphale. Hello, Amara,” Crawley greeted. He smiled at Amara. 

“Hello, Crawley,” She greeted. 

“Crawley,” Aziraphale greeted him. 

“So, giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?” Crawley asked. 

“The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again,” He responded. 

“Probably a good thing. What's all this about? Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo?” 

“From what I hear, God's a bit tetchy. Wiping out the human race. Big storm,” Aziraphale whispered to Amara and Crawley. 

“All of them?” Crawley asked. 

“Just the locals,” Aziraphale answered, “I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese.

Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians.”

“Yet,” Crawley said. 

“And God's not actually going to wipe out all the locals. I mean, Noah, up there, his family, and his sons, their wives, they're all going to be fine,” He told them. 

“But they're drowning everybody else?” Crawley asked and Aziraphale nods. Amara and Crawley watch as children walk past, “Not the kids? You can't kill kids.”

“That’s just messed up on almost every level,” Amara commented. 

“Mm-hmm,” Aziraphale confirmed. 

“Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do,” Crawley said. 

“Yes, but when it's done, the Almighty's going to put up a new thing, called a "rainbow", as a promise not to drown everyone again,” Aziraphale told them. 

“How kind,” Crawley responded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure a “rainbow” will make up for the mass drowning of men, women, and children,” Amara responded. 

“You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley, Amara. God's plans are-” Aziraphale began. 

“Are you going to say "ineffable"?” Crawley asked. 

“Possibly,” He answered. 

“You just love saying that word, don’t you, Aziraphale?” Amara asked. 

“Oy! Shem! That unicorn's going to make a run for it,” Crawley yelled to warn them, but the unicorn was already too far gone, “Oh, it's too late. It's too late! Well, you've still got one of them.”

Thunder clashes above the crowd of people and rain soon pour down on them. 

**_Golgotha, 33 A.D._ **

Aziraphale, Amara, and Crowley stood amongst a small crowd watching Jesus getting nailed to a cross by Roman soldiers. 

“Father, please. You have to forgive them. Aah! They don't know what they are doing. Aah!” Jesus spoke as the nail was being hammered. 

“Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?” Crawley asked. 

“Smirk? Me?” Aziraphale questioned. 

“Well, your lot put him on there,” He explained. 

“He has a very good point, Aziraphale,” Amara agreed with Crawley, “I mean with everything that happened and such.”

“I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley,” Aziraphale informed him. 

“Oh, I've changed it,” Crawley said. 

“Changed what?” Aziraphale and Amara asked. 

“My name. "Crawl-y" just wasn't really doing it for me. It's a bit too squirming-at-your-feet-ish,” He told them. 

“Well, you were a snake. So, what is it now? Mephistopheles? Asmodeus?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Crowley,” Crowley answered. 

“That’s a big improvement from “Crawley”,” Amara muttered sarcastically. 

“Did you, uh ever meet him?” Aziraphale asked Crowley. 

“Yes,” He responded, “Seemed a very bright young man. I showed him all the kingdoms of the world.”

“Why?” Aziraphale asked. 

“He's a carpenter from Galilee. His travel opportunities are limited,” Crowley explained before asking, “ What about you, Amara? Did you meet him?”

“I did,” She replied, “I showed him some of my old tricks like turning water into wine, walking on water, etc.”    
  


The Roman soldier placed the final nail onto Jesus’ wrist before hitting it with the hammer causing blood to come out of the wound.

“That has got to hurt,” Crowley winced, “What was it he said that got everyone so upset?” 

"Be kind to each other,” Aziraphale replied. 

"Oh, yeah. That'll do it,” He responded. 

The cross is lifted with Jesus nailed to it into a vertical position by the Roman Soldiers as he wails in pain. There are two more crosses beside him. The people’s shadows are stretched out behind them as the sunsets. The crowd remains there as it sets and night falls. 

**_Rome, 8 years later._ **

In a Tavern, Aziraphale sits at a table playing a game until a familiar voice gains his attention. 

“What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable,” Crowley said. 

“Jug of house brown. Two sesterces,” The woman told him as she handed him his drink. 

“Crawley- Crowley? Well, Fancy running into you here,” Aziraphale greeted as he took a seat next to Crowley, “Still a demon, then?” 

“What kind of stupid question is that, "Still a demon"? What else am I going to be, an aardvark?” Crowley asked. 

Amara approached them from behind the bar, “Hello, boys. I’ll take it from here Lia.”

Lia nodded and walked away from behind the counter leaving the three to talk. 

“Amara, what brings you to Rome?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Business. I wanted to try my hand in this. The tavern's atmosphere is somewhat like me. It's neutral ground. It doesn't take sides because, in a way, it has its own side. By the way, Crowley, I like the glasses," Amara answered, "And sorry about the drinks. I'm having a hard time getting something decent that everyone can drink." 

“Well, I think that this is delicious,” Airzaphale held up his cup, “Salutaria.” 

Amara poured herself a drink and  the three clinked glasses before Crowley began to down his. 

“In Rome long?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Just nipped in for a quick temptation,” Crowley answered, “You?”

“I thought I’d try Petronius’ new restaurant. I hear he does remarkable things to oysters,” He replied. 

“I tried them. They were rather good,” Amara said. 

“I’ve never eaten an oyster,” Crowley said

“ Oh. Oh, well, let me tempt you to  —” Aziraphale began. Amara smirked. as Crowley looked over, “Oh, no. No that’s—that’s your job, isn’t it?”

Crowley smiled, taking another drink as he watched the two.

****_The Kingdom of West Essex, 537 A.D._ ** **

Aziraphale walked through the thick mist as his squire led his horses behind him. Aziraphale lifted the faceplate of his helmet, “Hello? I, Sir Aziraphale of the Table Round, am here to speak to the Black Knight.”

A figure shambled towards him and Aziraphale smiled, “Um...hello.”

The figure beckoned him forward, telling him to come forward. Aziraphale took a few steps as he said, “I was hoping to meet with the Black Knight.”

More figures rose from the fog as a figure in full black armor stepped up, “You have sought the Black Knight, foolish ones. But you have found your death.”

Aziraphale seemed to have realized the same thing.

“Is that you under there, Crawley?”

“Crowley,” Crowley corrected as he lifted the visor of his helmet.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Aziraphale demanded in a harsh whisper.

“It’s alright lads. I know him,” Crowley said glancing over his shoulder before answering, “I’m here spreading foment.”

“What is that some kind of porridge?”

“He means to instigate, Aziraphale,” Amara told him as she made herself known and stepped out of the thick fog, “I should have known it was you two here.” 

“Exactly, you know, I’m fomenting dissent and discord. King Arthur’s been spreading too much peace and tranquillity in the land, so I’m here, you know, fomenting.”

“Well, I’m meant to be fomenting peace,” Aziraphale said. 

“So we’re all working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out?”

“Well, you could put it like that.”

“Oh, please Aziraphale. That’s exactly what you two are doing. Hell, that’s almost what my job is,” Amara stated. 

“Well, it is a bit damp,” Aziraphale complained. 

“Be easier if we all stayed home. If we just sent messages back to our head offices saying we’d done everything they’d ask for, wouldn’t it?” Crowley suggested. 

“But that would be lying.”

“Don’t think of it as lying, Aziraphale, think of it as not telling the whole story. Besides, the end results would be the same if either of you stayed home or not. Just cancel each other out,” Amara told Aziraphale. 

“But, well, they’d check,” Aziraphale said with worry in his voice,” Micheal’s a bit of a stickler. You don’t want Gabriel to be upset with you.”

“Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get the paperwork, they seem happy enough. As long as you’re beings seen to be doing something every now and again,” Crowley said.

“That’s not a bad idea, Crowley,” Amara complemented. 

“No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. And you, going along with it Amara. We’re not having this conversation. Not another word. Not another word!” Aziraphale said, stomping off.

“Right,” Crowley said as he and Amara shared a look. 

“Right!” Aziraphale snapped looking over his shoulder. 

****_The Globe Theater, 1601._ ** **

A crowd of four or so people stood around a stage as a woman walked around selling food.

“Oysters! Oranges!”

“Some grapes, please,” Aziraphale asked politely, dressed in white, as the woman approached him. Meanwhile, one stage a man spoke,“To be or not to be, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune… ”

As the actor monologued a pair entered the theater Crowley with dark glasses dressed all in black and Amara dressed in a lovely gray dress with hints of red.

“I thought you said we’d be inconspicuous here,” Crowley said as he and Amara stepped up behind Aziraphale.

“If I remember correctly, you said something about blending in among the crowds,” Amara teased.

“Well, that was the idea,” Aziraphale said, trying to defend his plan as the actor droned on.

“Hang on,” Shakespeare interrupted and the actor’s dull buzz went quiet.

“This isn’t one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones, is it?” Crowley asked.

“It’s no wonder nobody’s here! The man needs to give everyone something a bit more cheerful,” Amara spoke. 

“Shhh. It’s him. It’s him.” Aziraphale said quickly as Shakespear approached the trio.

“Prithee, gentles, and lady. Might I request a small favor?” he began, “Could you, in your role as the audience, give us more to work with?”

“You mean, like when the ghost of his father came on, and I said, “He’s behind you!’”

“Just so. That was jolly helpful. Made everyone on stage feel appreciated. A bit more of that.” Shakespeare said as he began to move away, “Good Master Burbage, please. Speak the lines trippingly.”

“I am wasting my time up here.” the actor complained.

“No, no, you’re very good.” Aziraphale reassured, “I love all the...talking.”

“And what do your friends think?”

“Oh, the gentleman is not my friend. We hardly know each other.”

“I think you should get on with the play,” Crowley said with a smile.

“Yes, Burbage. Please.” Shakespeare said, “From the top!”

“To be or not to be. That is the question.” Burbage began, earning groans from the audience.

“To be! I mean, not to be!” Aziraphale shouted, gaining looks from his companions, “Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!”

“Whether ‘tis nobler,” Burbage continued, “in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows—”

“He’s very good isn’t he?” Aziraphale asked quietly

“Age does not wither, nor custom stale his infinite variety.” Amara said sarcastically, earning a smile from Crowley and a look from Shakespear as he commented on how he liked the line.

“What do you want Crowley?” Aziraphale finally asked

“Why ever would you insinuate that I might possibly want something?”

“You are up to no good.”

“Obviously,” Crowley responded, “Your up to good, I take it? Lots of good deeds?”

“No rest for the...well, good,” Aziraphale answered, “I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week.”

“Oh.” Crowley hummed.

“Fascinating,” Amara commented. 

“Yes, I have a couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform. Apparently,” Aziraphale said, looking like he rather disliked the idea, “I have to ride a horse.”

“Ah, hard on the buttocks, horses. Major design flaw if you ask me. I’m meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle,” Crowley informed the two. 

“Doesn’t sound like hard work.”

“That’s why I thought we should…” Crowley began, earning a confused look from Aziraphale.

“It is a bit of wasted effort if you both go all the way to Scotland,” Amara muttered, “You both would just cancel each other out again. 

“You two cannot actually be suggesting...what I infer…you are implying.”

“Which is?” Crowley asked

“That just one of us goes to Edinburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting.”

“You two have done it before,” Amara mentioned. 

“Yes, dozens of times now. The arrangement—”

“Don’t say that.” Aziraphale interrupted Crowley.

“Look, the head offices don’t truly care how things get done. So long as they are done.”

“But if Hell finds out, they won’t just be angry, they’ll destroy you, Crowley.”

“Nobody ever has to know.”

“Exactly. Toss you for Edinburgh.”

“Fine.” Aziraphale said, caving, “Heads.”

Crowley gives the coin to Amara and she flips it, catching it with ease before turning it over on the back of her hand. She glanced down and announced, “Tails, Aziraphale”

“You’re going to Scotland then,” Crowley said. 

“It’s been like this every performance, Juliet. Complete dud. It’s take a miracle for anyone to come and see ‘Hamlet”.” They overheard Shakespeare talking to the woman selling food. Instantly Aziraphale’s gaze snapped over to Crowley and Crowley sighed.

“Yes alright, I’ll handle that one. My treat.”

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale said, practically glowing with happiness.

“I still prefer the funny ones,” Crowley said, walking away. Amara waved goodbye as she followed Crowley out of the theater.

****_Lancashire, England, 1656._ ** **

Amara was standing next to Anges Nutter as she wrote a note to the milkman in her cottage. Soon the two heard the townspeople chanting, “Witch! Witch!”

“They’re late,” Agnes said. 

“Everyone is late to those who see the future,” Amara commented. 

The chanting grows louder and louder as the townspeople get closer to the cottage. Anges stands in front of the door, waiting. Soon, there was a knocking on the door before it opens. 

“Adultery Puliser… Good people,” Anges addressed the Witchfinder and Townspeople,” Thou art tardy. I should have been aflame ten minutes since. Right.”

She steps out of the cottage and walks away, earning serval confused looks from the people.

“Mistress Nutter?” Adultery Puliser called to her. He follows after her and the crowd follows. Anges leds them down the narrow path away from her cottage and without hesitation, she steps up on the non-lit bonfire and stands with her back to the posts that sticks out of it. The witchfinder stands behind her and ties her wrists. 

“This is most irregular, Mistress Nutter,” He told her before stepping away. 

“Gather thee right close, good people. Until the fire near scorch ye,” Agnes told them and they stepped closer to the bonfire, “for I charge ye that all must see how the last true witch in England dies. And let my death be a message to the world. Come. Come. Gather thee close, I say. And mark well the fate of those who meddle with such as they do not understand.”

Some of the men put flaming torches to the bonfire and not only set it alight, but also the fifty pounds of gunpowder and thirty pounds of roofing nails that Agnes had concealed in her petticoats. 

“Oh, bugger,” Adultery Puliser said before there was an explosion from the bonfire knocking everyone from the ground. 

From afar, Amara smiled as the townspeople were given their just deserts. She returned to Anges’ cottage and placed the book into the box along with a letter that would be given to her daughter and son-in-law before leaving.

****_Paris, 1793._ ** **

Aziraphale, dressed rather nicely, is in a cell as a crowd cheered outside. He sat on a small stool looking rather frazzled.

He froze and looked over to see a revolutionist opening their cell to come and get them for the guillotine. The man stepped into their cell and began to speak in French and Azirphale began to, and rather poorly, attempt to tell the man there had been a mistake. 

The man held up a finger and said to Aziraphale, “I speak English.”

The two heard the guillotine slid down and crashed in the background as a scream floated in from outside.

“Listen to that. The fall of the guillotine blade. Is it not terrible?”

“Yes, cutting off that poor woman’s head. Terrible.”

“It is Pierre. An amateur. Always he let go of the rope too soon. You are lucky that is is I, Jean-Claude, who will remove your traitorous head from your shoulders.”

“Please sir, this is all a terrible mistake. You see, I don’t think you understand—” Aziraphale began before Jean-Claude cut him off.

“I have good news for you. You, monsieur, are the 999th aristo to die at the guillotine at my hand. But you are the first English. Now…” Jean-Claude said, moving behind Aziraphale who shot up and moved away from the stool.

“Please! No! Dreadful mistake, discorporating me. Oh, it’ll be a complete nightmare” Aziraphale said as the guillotine crashed again and the crowd cheered. Jean-Claude turned to cheer with them when suddenly he froze.

“Animals,” Aziraphale said as a voice came from behind the angel.

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, angel. Only humans do that.” a voice said from behind him and he turned.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said with joy, beaming as he finally relaxed. The demon was lounging in the corner with Amara, both dressed similar to the lot decapitating aristocrats. “Oh, good Lord,” he sighed, turning away slightly.

“What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?” Crowley asked him, “I thought you were opening a book shop.”

“I Am, but I got peckish.”

“‘Peckish?’” Crowley and Amara questioned Aziraphale. 

“Well, if you must know it was the crepes. You can’t get decent ones anywhere but Paris. And the brioche,” He explained to them. 

“So you just popped across the Channel during a revolution, because you wanted something to nibble? Dressed like that?”

“I have standards,” Aziraphale defended. 

“Well, those standards almost got you discorporated,” Amara told him. 

“I’d heard they were getting a bit carried away over here but—”

“Yeah, this is not getting carried away,” Crowley interrupted, “This is cutting off lots of people’s heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine. Why didn’t you just perform another miracle and go home?”

“I was reprimanded last month. They said I’d performed too many frivolous miracles. Got a strongly worded note from Gabriel.”

“Well then, you are lucky Amara and I were in the area.”

“Undoubtedly,” Aziraphale sighed, “So what are you here for?”

“My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance.”

“So all this is your demonic work?” Aziraphale asked

“No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me.” Crowley said before snapping his fingers, making his chains fall away.

“It’s somewhat my falt,” Amara admitted, “I tried to warn Marie, which was why I am here, but she didn’t listen to me. She just kept throwing parties.” 

“Well,” Aziraphale said, “ I supposed I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue.”

“Don’t say that. If my people hear I rescued an angel, I’ll be the one in trouble. And my lot do not send rude notes.” Crowley said quickly, he and Amara stepping towards Aziraphale. 

“Yes, what about if I buy you lunch?”

“Looking like that?” Crowley asked and Aziraphale glanced down and sighed. With a small flourish, he switched outfits with Jean-Claude. 

“Well, barley counts as a miracle, really,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley snaps his fingers. Jean-Claude looked down, instantly noticing the outfit switch and looked baffled. He was quickly lead out by guards and Crowley leaned over to the two and said,

“Dressed like that he’s asking for trouble.”

After a moment’s pause Amara glanced at Aziraphale, “So, what’s for lunch?”

“What would you say to some crepes?”

****_St. James park, London, 1862_ ** **

Amara and Crowley stand by the pond while Aziraphale arrive and began to feed the ducks. The park is spot for them to meet and discuss in secret from their superiors. 

“Look, I’ve been thinking,” Crowley spoke, “What if it all goes wrong? The three of us have a lot in common.”

“I don’t know. You and I may have both started off as angels, but you are fallen and Amara is neither,” Aziraphale responded. 

“I didn’t really fall. I just, you know… Sauntered vaguely downwards,” Crowely corrected before admitting, “I need a favor.”

“We already have an agreement, Crowley,” Amara reminded him,” You two stay out of each others way. The three of us help each other when needed.”

“This is something else, for if it all goes pear-shaped.”

“I like pears,” Aziraphale voiced. 

“I it all goes wrong,” Crowely rephased, “I want insurance.” 

“What do you mean exactly, Crowley?” Amara inquired. 

“I wrote it down. Walls have ears,” Crowley hands Amara a piece of paper, “Well, not walls. Trees have ears. Ducks have ears. Do ducks have ears? Must do. That’s how they ear the other ducks.”

Amara opens the piece of paper and Aziraphale looks over her shoulder and what they saw made their eye wide with shock. 

Aziraphale looks at Crowley, “Out of question.” 

“Why not?” He asked. 

“Crowley this would not only discorperate you, but destroy you as well,” Amara told him. 

“We are not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley,” Aziraphale takes the paper out of Amara’s hand and gives it to Crowley. 

“That’s not what I want it for,” Crowley argued, “Just insurance.”

He gives it back to Aziraphale. 

“We are not idiots, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I’d be in if… “ Aziraphale quickly looks up, “If they knew I’d been fraternizing? And who knows what they would do to Amara? It’s completely out of the question.”

”Fraternizing?” Crowley questioned in a harsh whisper. 

“Well, whatever you wish to call it. I do not think there is any point in discussing it further,” Aziraphale told him.

“I have lots of other people to fraternize with, Angel.”

“Of course you do and how many of those can get you what you desire?” Amara quipped. 

“I don’t need you,” Crowley told the two. 

Amara slaps Crowley and says, “The feeling is mutual. Let’s go, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale throws the paper away before his and Amara’s arm interlocks and the walk away from Crowley. 

****_London, 1942._ ** **

A clock chimed in the distance as air raid sirens wailed throughout the city. Amara and Crowlye are currently arguing while Aziraphale is in the church dealing with Nazis and about to be discorporated by them.

“Crowley, Aziraphale does not have much time now. So, neither I drag you into that church or you can go in of your own will,” Amara threated. 

Crowley whined for a moment before slamming the door open and went into the church with Amara beside him. Everyone turned their attention to the back of the church as they heard Crowley gasping as he walked rather stiffly towards them.

“Sorry, consecrated ground,” Crowley said, “Oh! It’s like being at the beach in bare feet.”

“Crowley, Amara! What are you doing here?” Aziraphale hissed.

“What’s it looked like we’re doing. We’re here stopping you you getting into trouble,” Amara responded. 

“I should have known. Of course. These people are working for you,” Aziraphale said to Crowley. 

“No! They’re a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running around London blackmailing and murdering people. I just didn’t want to see you two embarrassed.” Crowley said, dancing away from them.

“Mr. Anthony J. Crowley and the enchanting Ms. Amara  Batair .” Mr. Golizier said, “Your fame precedes you.”

“Anthony?” Aziraphale asked

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I’ll...get used to it.”

“The famous Mr. Crowley? Such a pity you must all die.” Greta said with a smile.

“What does the ‘J’ stand for?” Aziraphale asked.

“It’s just a ‘J’ really.” Crowley said before glancing over, “Look at that! A whole fontful of holy water. It doesn’t even have guards!”

“Crowley, now is not the time,” Amara scolded him. 

“Enough babbling. Kill them all,” Mr. Glazier ordered. 

“In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here. If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won’t enjoy dying, definitely won’t enjoy what comes after,” Crowley warned them 

“You expect us to believe that?” He asked, “The bombs tonight will fall on the East End.”

“Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course, yes. You’re all wasting your valuable running-away time. And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it.” Crowley said, giving the angel a pointed look.

“A real miracle,” Aziraphale said with a nod.

“Kill them.” Mr. Harmony said, “They are very irritating.”

Suddenly a faint whistling filled the air and Crowley pointed up as it grew louder. The Nazis looked up as bombs exploded around them and then one hit the church.

Aziraphale, Crowley, and Amara stood unharmed in the rubble as Crowley cleaned off his sunglasses.

“That was very kind of you,” Aziraphale said.

“Shut up,” Crowley said, putting his sunglasses back on. 

“Learn to take a compliment, Crowley,” Amara told him. 

“Well, it was kind. No paperwork for a start,” Aziraphale said before realization hit him, “Oh the books! Oh, I forgot all the books! They’ll all be blown to…” Aziraphale stopped as Amara stooped over and yanked a case from a hand sticking up from the rubble. She handed it over to Aziraphale.

“You boys aren’t the only ones who can preform miracles, ” She said. Amara and Crowley walk away from the rubble. 

****_Soho, London, 1967._ ** **

Amara watched from the passenger seat of the Bently as a young man spoke to Crowley. She remains unseen by Crowley, and when the conversation finished and Crowley got into the car, looking over at Amara as she made herself visible, “What are you doing here?”

“I heard from one of my men that you were trying to rob a church.”

“So?”

“So, it’s dangerous. And just for holy water, which if you aren’t careful with will destroy you completely. Aziraphale and I still think it’s not a good idea—”

“I know what you both think, you told me 105 years ago.”

“—but, he agreed to help me get you some,” Amara finished and pulled a thermos from her coat. Crowley stared in shock and Amara began to carefully pass it over before hesitating.

“I want you to listen to me, Crowley. I am only giving this to you because I trust that you won’t use this as a suicide pill as you said. You’re only getting this because you hold my complete trust. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, now be careful. Don’t unscrew the cap,” she said and gently passed it over, Crowley taking it gingerly.

“It’s the real thing?”

“Oh, Crowley, don’t you trust me?” Amara asked with a small smile, “I promised you, and a promise is unbreakable.”

“Well, uh, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I did promise after all.”

“Yes,” he said before gently putting the holy water away.

“Be careful, Crowley,” Amara kisses him on the cheek before disappearing. 


End file.
